


Blackout

by erazedtrash



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Dystopia, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13593240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erazedtrash/pseuds/erazedtrash
Summary: A mysterious disease haunts humanity, not sparing the hometown of Dominic Howard, one of the infected. And there's only one person who seems to be able to help him...Trigger warnings: strong language, mature/sexual content, graphic violence, death, su*cide





	1. 127 days earlier - Infection

When I was walking down the street, I suddenly heard something or rather some _one_ behind me.

I spun on my heels and saw a middle-aged woman squirm with pain.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" I asked and walked towards her.

"No! No... Stay away from me," she choked out as she held her head.

She was one of the infected. One of the persons that got sick like overnight. I stopped and stared at her in shock. The government and the CDC had spread warnings all over the media. There was nothing else on the TV and newspaper.

They talked about this mysterious disease that had... appeared out of nowhere and had then spread all over Europe like a wildfire. It would soon reach the other continents, too - the governments of the big countries still refused to close the borders.

The infected showed symptoms like enormous headache, amnesia, random blackouts... sometimes they suddenly got enraged - for no particular reason. And eventually... they just died. That was it.

Nobody knew where it came from, whether it was airborne... Nobody knew what it was. A virus? Some kind of bacteria that was immune to the usual treatment?

And anybody was endangered. There had been victims of all ages, from a two year old girl to an 84 year old man. They were all different in origin, age, habits... though they had one thing in common - being infected. Some people were sick for months before they died, some died within hours.

I was pretty surprised that the government hadn't told everybody to stay at home yet. That would have seemed logical to me. But no. They said that we shouldn't be worried and that we could or rather _should_ go to work just like we usually did.

"I..." I began and the woman slowly raised her head to look at me. "Can I help you?" I asked with a slight hint of desperation to my voice now.

"No, sorry," she replied, smiling sadly. "I wish you could," she added.

"I hope you get better soon," I said and pursed my lips.

The woman chuckled and nodded. She grimaced at the pain and gave me a brief wave. "Goodbye," she mumbled and walked off.

I looked after her for a long time, until she left my field of view. I continued making my way to my workplace, hoping that my boss wouldn't be too mad when I was ten minutes late.

I would find some explanation for him or maybe he would even accept it without an explanation.

I couldn't quite a judge what kind of person my boss was. In some moments he was super nice and friendly and cared about everyone and everything. And in the next moment he was like super grumpy and not content with any the work we did for him. So even if we put a lot of effort into what we did, he was like "That's not good enough."

There had been moments where I had thought about quitting my job because it really sucked at some point but I couldn't live without my work because I had no other income. Something had to pay for the rent and food and stuff.

Eventually the office building I worked in came into sight and I increased the pace of my steps.

I checked my watch and took a deep breath. I was about five minutes late by now. He was for sure waiting for me already.

I took out my key card from my bag and handed it to the security guard at the door. He gave me a quick glance and let the card slide over the scanner. When the green light popped up he let me pass through.

I went straight to the office of my boss so that I could just tell him that I was... that I was _there_.

When I was walking down the hallway my steps echoed in an eerie fashion. A shiver ran down my spine. A lot of my co-workers had been told to stay at home by Mr Bellamy because they were infected. Because if they had listened to what the government had said about staying or not staying at home when you were infected, they would have come to work as usual.

Most of the rooms that lined the corridor had been empty for days, some even for weeks.

Only once, thank God, I had witnessed someone die from the disease. It had been a woman named Charlene. She had worked here for eight years and when I got the job three years ago, she was the one to show and teach me everything.

It had been utterly terrifying to see her die. The pictures still haunted me every night. How she had screamed in pain and had told all of us, who were around and who wanted to help her, to stay back. How she had cried out that her head was exploding and then, suddenly... she was silent... she was dead.

I made my way down the corridor and when I went to knock on the door, it opened and in front of me stood my boss.

"There you are," Mr Bellamy mumbled with a slight hint of annoyance to his voice and his electric blue eyes pierced right through me. I couldn't say anything – the words were stuck somewhere in my throat – so I just nodded.

Suddenly sharp pain shot from my right temple to the back of my head. Oh fuck no...


	2. 127 days earlier – symptoms

Mr Bellamy's face changed for the fraction of a second and he put his hand on my shoulder.

My boss eyed me with a concerned expression. "Are you okay, Mr Howard?" he asked. 

I tried to push away the pain pulsing from my forehead to my neck and nodded in response. 

"Good. Then go to work," Mr Bellamy commanded sternly and I walked off. 

' _What a nice conversation to start the day with_ ,' I thought as I unlocked the door to my room. 

When I sat down at my desk and turned on the screen of my computer, another wave of pain washed over me. Fear welled up inside me as I realised once again - I was infected. 

I wondered how long it would take the disease to kill me. Why even work? I would be dead soon anyway. So why bother? Going on was just so pathetic...

As I stared at the bright screen of the computer in frustration, I noticed that I had dug my fingernails into my palms. I quickly unclenched my fist and looked at the little red spots my nails had left on my pale skin.

Concentrating on my work was nearly impossible. The pictures of my former co-workers popped up in my mind again. How many people were even left? I hadn't seen any in the office building except for my boss.

I snorted and laughed dryly. The fat cats didn't get sick. Of fucking course not. 

Suddenly I felt the strong urge to throw all my stuff around the room. To push the computer from the table, smash everything.

I glanced at the clock on the wall - I had only been working for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes out of ten fucking hours. Because they were a lack of workers left - if there even was anyone besides me - and the job had to be done, all the work had to be done by the remaining people aka me. It sucked major ass.

After four hours of computer work, I got up from my chair to go get lunch which - for me - consisted of coffee.

My legs gave up on me and I fell to my knees, my head spinning. My view became blurry and closing my eyes made the nausea even worse.

I struggled to get to my feet and collapsed again. After a few seconds of sitting on the floor, I felt a little better.

I stood up slowly and rubbed my forehead in confusion. What was that? 

I looked around - nobody was anywhere to be seen. I went to the coffee machine which was down at the end of the hallway. I took my coffee and skipped back to my room. 

The computer screen was still screaming at me to go back to work.

I hated it.  

Why... Why couldn't I have gotten a nice job? I knew, I shouldn't be complaining - it was the best job I could have possibly gotten. I was lucky that I got it and my boss was... he was just a... side effect. That's what I had always told myself. When I would - pardon -  _if_  I would manage to make money off my own, independent business, I would say goodbye to this arsehole as soon as I could. However, my time hadn't come yet, it seemed like.

When I sat down at my table again, I took a sip of the coffee. It tasted awful but I needed it. I needed the caffeine. 

It would make me more awake and more concentrated. So that I could stand the next six hours. 

I blinked and glanced at the watch again. It was... It was 2 PM already?! How was that possible? 

I suddenly heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned around and saw Mr Bellamy standing in the door. 

He eyed me for a few seconds and I gazed into his electric blue eyes.

"Can I help you, sir?" I asked in the friendliest tone I could manage. My head was pounding aggressively again and I bit down on my cheek to distract myself from it.

Mr Bellamy just ignored my question and approached slowly. I swallowed and looked up at him.

What could he possibly want from me? I had no idea. But maybe... Was he here to tell me to go home because he found out that I was infected? Was he here to fire me?

His staring was starting to make me feel very uncomfortable and I broke eye contact. I had this strange feeling inside me... warmth? It was probably just because I was sick.

"You just had a blackout," my boss stated arrogantly and raised one eyebrow. He crossed his thin arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"No! I mean... No, sir. I'm perfectly fine and I just do what I'm supposed to do," I assured him quickly and I saw the face of my boss grow darker. Oh fuck. ' _What did I do wrong now_ ,' I thought disgruntled and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"So you just  _faked it_  to get some time off?" he asked and pointed at me accusingly. "You fell asleep on a job?!" Mr Bellamy stated angrily and I glared right back at him.

Gosh, I hated this man. I hated him with a passion.


	3. 114 days earlier - confusion

Over the past two weeks Mr Bellamy had continued treating me like pathetic shit. Yay.

The work I had to do just kept getting more and more. And his anger about me not managing to do all the work kept getting more and more as well. How the fuck was I supposed to do what was usually done by over twenty fucking people?!

By now, the death toll had reached forty million people - only in the UK. Worldwide there were about eight hundred million people who died from it. Gone. Two billion where infected. And I was one out of two fucking billion. Great. 

This would definitely be the end of humanity. I was certain of it. In two weeks - maybe even one - the disease would've wiped out  _half the human population_. And the world's best scientists either still had no idea what to do or they were infected themselves. 

I shook my head slowly and took another bite of the carrot I had brought to work with me today. I almost threw up. It tasted awful. I stared at the carrot. Was it just the sickness? I couldn't tell anymore. 

The bloody headache I had all the time, had gotten a lot worse. It wasn't just occasional pounding no more - it felt as if someone was trying to force my skull inwards. Or like scratching on my skull bone.

And try to stand that fucking shit 24/7 when you know there's not the slightest chance that a) it will get better and b) you can't do anything about it.

As if that wasn't enough, I couldn't sleep. Food - gosh, even water - made me feel sick. 

When I had entered my flat after work last week, I had collapsed onto the floor and lay there on my face for three hours. I hadn't been able to move. My entire body had shut down and my brain had still somehow been working. Then everything had become blurry and when I had opened my eyes again, I had eventually managed to get up slowly.

The blackout had lasted for twenty minutes this time, the one before only thirteen. Would I just pass out one day and never wake up again?

Yesterday I wanted to call my parents to check if they were okay. And I couldn't remember where they lived, what their phone number was... If they were even alive. It terrified me to... to  _not know anything_. 

I had never been a huge fan of things fucking with my head like alcohol or drugs. However, if it was something you had no control over, it was even worse.

I had these framed pictures standing on my desk, right next to my computer. 

One showed three people with a younger man in the middle - me, I assumed - and one older woman and one older man to both my sides. Where these my parents? I couldn't tell. I started crying in silence and looked at the second picture. 

There were two people on this one. A man and a woman who had their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders and were laughing. A young couple? The man looked exactly like the one on the first picture so I guessed it was me again.

But who was the woman? My sister? My girlfriend? My  _wife_? I glanced at my hand. No ring... Ex-wife? 

Why the hell would I put a picture of my ex-wife on my desk? 

I continued crying over my forever lost memories until there were no tears left to shed. 

Then I just stared at the screen in front of me without doing anything. 

It was useless. The work was useless. Bothering was useless. I was useless. Everything and everybody... useless. 

Why was I still here? I was so sick of all this. I could have...  _ended_  all this earlier. At this moment, I came to the decision that I would. Today. 

Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door. My head snapped up and I immediately felt sick again.

"Come in!" I called and a man opened the door. My boss. Of fucking course I had to remember this arsehole... 

"Mr Howard..." 

I stared at him blankly. 

"Mr Howard?" Mister Bellamy repeated. I still refused to react. 

"Mr Dominic James fucking Howard!" my boss shouted and I blinked. So this was my name again. Good to know. 

"Yes, sir?" I asked. 

"Bloody hell, why couldn't you answer the first time?" Mr Bellamy observed rhetorically and frantically moved motioned around with his hands. He liked doing that a lot. This and pinching his nose. 

"I don't know and I'm sorry, Mr Bellamy," I replied automatically and tried to make my voice sound as polite as possible. 

"Please... please just call me Matt," my boss stated. 

As if in trance I nodded and mumbled: "Dom", stretching out my hand. Why did I say that? I didn't even like this guy. 

Mr Bellamy shook it hesitantly and when he touched my skin, his eyes widened. 

"God damn, you're hot as hell! Are you sure you're okay?" he exclaimed and scanned me worriedly. 

"I'm fine," assured him quickly and pulled my hand away. 

We were silent for a moment. Then Mr Bellamy did a strange thing.

He leaned in slowly as if to- "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" I yelled, pushing him away.

He just stared at me in shock and I noticed how hurt he was now.

"Y'know, I really care about you, Dominic," my boss mumbled and his royal blue eyes met mine. 

I snorted sarcastically. "Why the fuck did make me hate you then?" I asked and he lowered his head. 

When I looked up again I saw tears welling up in his eyes. Now I was confused.  _Very_  confused. 

"It was the only way to twigger the part of you that's... that's still  _human_." 


	4. 113 days earlier - scared

My boss hadn't talked to me after what he said yesterday. It pissed me off, to be honest. He seemed to be the only person who knew that the actual fuck was going on. So why didn't he tell me what he knew?

But he had just taken me to his car and had driven me home without answering any of my questions.

It still confused me how he had attempted kissing me. Had Matt actually meant it when he said that he cared about me?

I bit my lip and continued staring at the ceiling. It somehow felt right - I couldn't explain why.

Sleeping now would be impossible even though I was tired as fuck. I had this thing in my head that wouldn't let me drift off.

 

~

 

On my way to work I met four people.  _Four._  The empty streets were creepy as hell.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets. They had been itchy all day, as if thousands of insects were crawling all over me.

I entered the office building - the security guard had disappeared a while ago - and headed straight for the elevator. I didn't have the strength to climb the stairs.

When I reached the right floor, I exited the elevator and stalked down the corridor, heading right for the office of Mr Bellamy.

I was punctual today. I knocked on the door and he told me to come in.

My boss looked up from the newspaper he had just been reading and his incredible electric blue eyes pierced right through me.

"I'm surpwised they still have someone how writes the articles and they still pwint it, y'know," he remarked and pointed at the newspaper.

I nodded briefly and glanced at my feet. We were silent for a while. Awkward.

"Can I help you, Dom?" my boss asked kindly and eventually got up from his desk, skipping towards me.

Now that he stood in front of me, I noticed how small he was.

I ran a hand through my hair and cleared my throat. "Um... yeah... well, Mr Bellamy..." I began and took my hand down. It was trembling like crazy.

My boss pursed his lips. "Matt."

"Matt," I repeated, blushing lightly and chuckled awkwardly. "Err... I think you still owe me an explanation for what you said yesterday..."

The blue eyed man stared at me for a long time before he lowered his head.

"So… you wanna know what's up?" Matt observed cautiously and his eyes met mine again.

"Exactly," I replied and gave him a convinced nod.

Suddenly Matt hugged me. I froze and resisted the urge to push him away, because the hug felt good. It was what I needed right now. I wrapped my arms around him as well and we stood there like that for what felt like forever.

All my anger was gone - how had I ever been able to  _hate_  him?

"I'm so sorry, Dominic," Matt muttered and let go of me.

"Sorry for what? I- What-... What did you mean by 'trigger the part of me that's still human'?" I blurted out and knit my brows.

Matt motioned towards a comfortable looking sofa in the corner of his room. I had never noticed it stood there before.

We sat down next to each other and I saw the world around me blurring again.

"Oh fuck," I hissed under my breath and held my head.

Matt gave me a short concerned look before he sighed. "So… it has always just been the government," Matt told me and I gazed at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion.

"Well... this will sound hella cwazy..."

I bit my lip impatiently.

"They... when you are born... you get a tiny computer chip implanted into your head... to control where you're going, what you're doing, sometimes even what you're  _thinking_... they made you a drone," Matt explained and my mouth fell open.

I gulped down the lump in my throat. It still took me some minutes to calm down. I opened and closed my mouth over and over again, failing to say something.

"But then... a few months ago - when  _it_  all started - there was some system failure and a lot of the chips started fucking around. Just like yours. And... That’s why you have these symptoms," Matt added.

"T-they did this to everybody?" I choked out and he nodded.

"W-why d-don't you have symptoms then?" I asked, still confused and Matt gave me a sad smile.

He turned around and pushed up his hair above the nape of his neck. There was a small pink scar.

"I removed it myself... before it was too late," he stated and faced me again.

I stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly something came to my mind again.

"But we have this government for twenty years now. It's impossible that they already did that to people before they were the leading force," I wondered aloud as I thought about the old people who had died... because of computer chips in their heads. Matt nodded his agreement.

"Let's put it that way: how many times in your life have you been to a hospital?" he retorted and pursed lips.

"Like two or three times," I answered after thinking about it and looked at my feet.

"Exactly," Matt stated. I glanced up at him. I was horrified.

"Every single time they drug someone, they check if the person has..." I trailed off.

"Yeah."

"Can... can we remove it from my head, too?" I asked in a shaky voice. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"I... Dom, I don't know if it's... too dangerous for you... Like... You already have it that bad," Matt responded honestly and my lower lip started quivering.

He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his chest, crying helplessly. I could feel Matt's warm tears on my back as well.

He let go of me and his stunning blue eyes met mine.

"You meant it when you said that you really cared about me, didn't you?" I asked.

Matt nodded slowly. "Yes, I did."

I put my head on his lap and immediately sat up straight again.

"Do you mind?" I asked cautiously and bit my lip.

Matt chuckled lowly and shook his head. I went back to my former position and he started caressing my hair.

"I'm so scared, Matt," I whispered.

"I know, Dom. But don't give up the fight... you will be alright," he mumbled in response and leaned forward to kiss my head.

I closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything but how safe I was in Matt's arms...


	5. 113 day earlier - gunshots

Matt and I had spent the night in his office. He said it was safer. I opened my eyes and found myself snuggled into his chest.

Matt was still asleep. He looked so... insanely perfect, I had never noticed before. _I might have a crush on him..._

I absentmindedly brushed my fingers along his jawline and he opened his eyes.

"Hi," I mumbled and Matt blinked sleepily.

His electric blue eyes met mine and he pecked my forehead. I blushed and smiled shyly. Matt chuckled and brushed a strand of blond hair out of my face. Did he feel the same? Both of us sat up, not breaking the eye contact.

"Dom," Matt began and pinched his nose. "I... You wemember what I said to you, right?"

I nodded briefly. "Yeah, you told me that you really care about me."

"Yeah, wight. Well... It's- Dom, are you okay?" Matt asked in concern.

My view swam and my head felt it would explode at any second. I winced and closed my eyes.

"Dominic," Matt muttered and stroked my hair.

"The pain," I whispered bleakly.

"I know..." Matt returned and hugged me. "Shh..." he soothed when tears escaped my eyes.

Suddenly the phone rang and Matt got up slowly. He answered the phone absentmindedly and his face expression changed.

"Are you sure? ... Yes, he's with me... No! ... Dom is... HE IS FUCKING FINE, OKAY! ... ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I WON'T LEAVE HIM HERE! FUCK YOU!" He hung up, fuming.

Matt glanced at me and I quickly turned away.

"You have to go, don't you?" I asked quietly and he approached, putting his soft hand on my shoulder. I looked up and immediately drowned in his electric blue eyes.

Matt pulled me to my feet and continued staring at me intently. " _We_ have to," he answered and crashed his lips into mine.

I was startled. Not that I didn't like it. It just... took me off guard.

Matt wrapped his skinny arms around my neck and deepened the kiss. He ran his tongue along my lower lip, begging for entrance which I granted immediately.

We broke apart eventually and looked into each other's eyes.

"I've always wanted to do that," Matt admitted and blushed.

I smiled lightly and ran a hand through his messy brown hair.

"I... I think I love you," he added and gave me a cautious look. There were so many butterflies inside me right now; nobody would have been able to count them.

"So you  _do_  feel the same," I mumbled and chuckled. Then I kissed him again.

We glanced at each other in silence before Matt suddenly snapped out of his position.

"We have to go," he stated and started pacing across the room, picking up random things and stuffing them into a backpack which he had gotten from the closet next to his desk. I noticed once again how I had never actually taken a look at his office when I had greeted him in the morning.

The aggressive pounding in my head got worse with every passing minute but I decided against telling Matt. He had enough things to worry about.

"Where are we going?" I observed and Matt interrupted his packing.

"We will go somewhere safe. When we reach that place, we can think about what we can do," he explained and I knit my brows in confusion.

"'Somewhere safe'?" I repeated. "It's safe inside this building, isn't it? Why go somewhere el-"

Matt cut me off by putting his thin index finger to my lips. He slowly shook his head and his face turned sad.

"They're coming. Soon. It won't be long that no inhabitant of this town who stayed in their houses will be alive," he muttered and pinched his nose, looking down.

My mouth fell open. "W-what do you mean? Who are ' _they_ '?" I asked even though I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"Let's just go, Dom, okay?" Matt pleaded and grabbed my hand. He slung the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "You need anything from your room?" he observed.

I shook my head slowly. Then something came back to my mind. "Wait! My family pictures," I said and bit my lip.

"That's a good idea. It's good to have your family with you..." Matt mentioned and tears welled up in his eyes.

"Who was it?" I asked quietly and wiped the tears away. Matt started sobbing and I pulled him into a tight hug.

When he had calmed down a little, I let go of him. Matt sniffed.

"M-my parents, my brother, my sister... all of them," he whispered bleakly and I kissed him.

"I'm so sorry, Matt."

 

~

 

We left the office and walked down the hallway. When we had almost reached the elevator, I felt sick.

 _Keep your shit together, Dominic_ , I told myself and continued going.

Outside the office building, there was nobody to be seen, just like when I went here yesterday.

But there were sounds. Sounds I wasn't used to. Gunshots. They were close.

"M-Matt?" I stuttered as I started panicking.

"Shh," he made and knelt down. He told me to do the same and we crouched behind one of the abandoned cars.

"Matt, what are they shooting at?" I asked. I knew exactly what they were shooting at.  _Who_  they were shooting at.

"They... they're shooting at the 'Infected'," Matt whispered and I inhaled sharply. Just what I had feared.

We made our way from car to car until we reached a crossing.

"You wun to the other side of the stweet when I tell you, okay?" Matt asked and I nodded. "3...2...1... Now!"

Matt stood up and started running. I tried to follow him but my legs gave up on me and I collapsed to the ground. Matt spun on his heels and his eyes widened.

"Dom!" he hissed and came back to where I was.

My eyelids grew heavy and I felt Matt wrapping his arms around me, dragging me back to the cars.

"Dom… Please wake up!" Matt begged and I could tell he was crying. "Dom! No! Don’t leave me, " was the last thing I heard; then everything went black. I was dead.


	6. 109 days earlier - rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of su*cide

 

"Just... Please! Dominic, I beg you!" Matt whispered between sobs. "P-please... wake up! I need you... Dom...  _NO!_   _You can't be dead!"_

He was crying helplessly now. The sound of it made me sick.

But I couldn't wake up. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe.

My heart had stopped beating minutes ago. I didn't know why I still heard Matt. Was it just my imagination?

I still felt the pain, that was for sure.

I opened my eyes. I couldn't see. Of course not.

My throat was sore and my limbs felt like they weighed 200 pounds each.

I wanted to sit up and tell Matt that I was okay. I wanted to tell him that I couldn't stand seeing him cry and that I needed him just as much as he needed me.

Matt saved my life. If he wouldn't have confronted me the other day, I would have committed suicide by now.

Maybe I would have found some wire or something to strangle myself with. Fast and easy...

"D-Dom," Matt whined. His breathing got closer as he leaned over me. Matt kissed me softly.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him back. I wanted to never let go of him again. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him.

But my body refused to obey my brain. Was my brain even working? Otherwise I wouldn't be able to think, would I?

"I'm so sorry, Dominic," Matt said and ran his hand through my hair for one last time.

Then he distanced himself from me, crying out in frustration, pain and grief.

 _'Matt, stop!'_  I wanted to shout at him.  _'They wi-'_

Then it happened. I heard the gunshots go off and a body fell to the ground.

 

~

 

The pain in my back was awful. My heart ached, too. Wait... what?

I sat up slowly and could finally see something.

My heart was pounding aggressively. Was I alive?

I looked around. Where was Matt? My pulse increased once again. ' _He isn't here.'_

Matt would have never left me for dead. Or would he?

 _'Don't you dare think like that, Dom. That's not fair. He could've just let you rot in the office building. Instead he took the risk of trying to bring you to a save place,'_  I told myself sternly.

I started sobbing. I missed Matt and I needed him so bad right now.

 _'What if he's dead?'_  I thought. No. He couldn't be. But he got shot...

I struggled to get to my feet and eventually managed to, heavily leaning against the wall.

Where was I? When I looked around once again, I noticed that I knew this place. It was the newly built, well, two year old, multi-storey car park in the centre of the city - not too far away from the office building where Matt and I got separated.

I searched for the exit and eventually caught sight of a door approximately fifty yards away. Fan-fucking-tastic.

At what felt like a snail's speed I approached the exit and opened the door. My breathing was uneven and my lungs burned - not forgetting the bloody headache - but I couldn't care less right now. I just wanted to get out of here.

I eyed the stairs and groaned. My silent complaints about how it would take me for-fucking-ever to get to the ground level were interrupted by noises from further up the stairs.

Quiet laughter, accompanied by crying. What the fuck?

I decided to follow the noise. Wouldn't matter if the person up there would want to hurt me. Or kill me.

After a few deep breaths I climbed the stairs until the wind brushed the hair out of my face and I inhaled the fresh air.

Then I noticed someone. I found  _him_  standing at the edge of the rooftop. "Matt?" I croaked weakly and he turned around.

"Hello, Dom," Matt greeted me and smiled at me.

I noticed the 9mm gun in his hands and swallowed. Was he- I decided to just ask him. "Are y-you going to shoot yourself?"

A few tears ran down Matt's cheeks. "You know I alweady have, Dom," he stated and smiled once again.

What the hell was he talking about?

When Matt saw my puzzled look, he chuckled lowly. In this situation the sound of his laughter which I had learned to love so much was terrifying.

"There's not the slightest chance that you're here, Dom," Matt said in a hurt voice, still not moving away from the edge.

"I-I really am here, Matt," I stuttered and felt tears streaming down my face.

"Sad thing is that I don't believe you."

This was so surreal. Matt stumbled backwards. He was only a few steps from falling over the edge.

Matt raised the gun to his head, the barrel of it shaking.  _No no no no no._ I sobbed helplessly and ran towards him as fast as I could manage.

"I am alive, Matt," I choked out between sobs and he shook his head slowly.

"I can't remember when it was good... moments of happiness elude... maybe I just misunderstood," Matt hummed. He was trying to block me out.

"I'm alive!" I stated, my scratchy voice growing louder.

"That's impossible. You had no pulse for  _minutes_..." Matt mumbled. Then he went back to his soft humming. "All of the love we left behind... watching the flash backs intertwine... memories I will never find..."

"I'M FUCKING ALIVE, MATT!" I screamed desperately.

The pounding in my head got stronger and stronger and I knew I was close to a blackout again. But not now. Not now that I was trying to proof that Matt would make a big mistake.

Matt lowered the gun and I let out a sigh of relief. The brown-haired man's electric blue eyes met mine. His stare pierced right through me.

He raised the gun slowly, pointing it at my heart. Then he pulled the trigger.


End file.
